


Bound Beneath a Black Flag

by orderlychaos



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Coulson's a pirate, Curses, First Kiss, Fluff, Garrett is evil, Get Together, M/M, Magic, Pining, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 10:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1936941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orderlychaos/pseuds/orderlychaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Captain Phillip Coulson breathed in a lungful of cool, salty air, and smiled.  The golden light of dawn was just starting to crest over the horizon, and everything was still, like the calm before the storm.  It was moments like this that reminded Phil why all that he’d suffered in his long life was worth it: the snap of wind in the sails, the sight of the open ocean surrounding him, and the soft creaking of the deck under his feet as the Triskelion cut sleekly through the waves.</em>
</p>
<p>Curses are difficult things, but for Phil Coulson and Clint Barton, love might just be enough to break it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound Beneath a Black Flag

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kisleth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisleth/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic, but things have been really busy this week, so I'm a bit late. I'm sorry, Kisleth, I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT ANYWAY! Happy Belated Birthday <3
> 
> A large thank you to Fin, who reassured me this was okay, and to Yakkorat who patiently helped me and picked on my mistakes. And to anyone who helped answer one of my random questions <3

Captain Phillip Coulson breathed in a lungful of cool, salty air, and smiled.  The golden light of dawn was just starting to crest over the horizon, and everything was still, like the calm before the storm.  It was moments like this that reminded Phil why all that he’d suffered in his long life was worth it: the snap of wind in the sails, the sight of the open ocean surrounding him, and the soft creaking of the deck under his feet as the _Triskelion_ cut sleekly through the waves.  The sea had always meant freedom to Phil, but now, more than ever, he could feel the truth of it singing through his blood.  Spotting his First Mate standing at the rail, Phil walked over as the rest of the ship stirred awake.  Phil had always liked Maria Hill, which was part of the reason she was now his second in command.  He’d never understood why so many sailors were suspicious of having women aboard ship - Phil had never found Maria to be anything other than competent, efficient and utterly ruthless.  Just like the other female members of his crew.  “What do you see?” Phil asked softly, resting his weight on the rail beside Maria.

“The _Clairvoyant_ ,” Maria growled, lowering the spyglass.  “You were right, Captain.  We’re closing in, fast.”

Narrowing his eyes, Phil spotted a dark shape on the horizon that had not been there at sunset, and allowed his smile to grow colder and meaner.  “Good,” he replied.  “Tell Jasper to hoist the colours.  Let the _Clairvoyant_ know who’s hunting her.”

“Yes, sir,” Maria said, but when she didn’t retreat, Phil arched an eyebrow.  “The _Clairvoyant_ is John Garrett’s ship,” Maria answered his silent question, an undercurrent of icy rage in her voice.

Phil  nodded.  He knew about Maria’s quarrel with Captain Garrett and his First Mate, Ward.  She wasn’t the only member of his crew who did, but Maria had more cause than most - Garrett had killed Maria’s lover, Victoria Hand.  The only person who had more cause for vengeance was Melinda May.  “Fury wants his operatives alive,” Phil told her.  “As long as we rescue them, I don’t particularly care what happens to Garrett, or his First Mate.”  He took the spyglass Maria offered, but stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.  “Melinda might, however,” he added in warning.  “And so might Trip.”

Maria’s grin was sharp and bloodthirsty.  “Understood, sir,” she said.

Phil let her slip away then, and after a glance at the shape of the _Clairvoyant_ on the horizon, Phil headed for the wheel.  When his hands closed around the smooth wood, he felt the _Triskelion_ surge beneath his feet, as if in anticipation.  Garrett might have thought that fleeing east might save him, but Phil had hunted craftier pirates than him before.  There would be no escaping for the _Clairvoyant_.

Not this time.

Quiet anger began to build in Phil’s stomach as they gained on Garrett’s ship.  Garrett himself had done some evil things in his life, but those to whom he’d pledged his allegiance were far worse.  Phil had seen HYDRA gain more and more influence over the East India Trading Company, seen the slaves and the arms sent across the seas, and part of the blame lay with him for not stopping them sooner.  Even if it took the rest of his cursed life, Phil would fight to change that, and to stop HYDRA from achieving their ends.  Other men might have been daunted by such a task, but Phil was Coulson the Heartless, the cursed pirate doomed to roam the seas forever, who fought like a devil dressed as a man.  Phil snorted.  The legend might have grown beyond proportion, but it had started as truth, and Phil had more than just one lifetime to make sure HYDRA did not succeed.

It was a dark part of Phil’s past that he didn’t like to contemplate, but the truth was he’d been alive for almost a century.  He didn’t understand how, but the woman he’d thought he’d loved had used magic to bind him to this life out of a sense of vengeance.  Phil could bleed and he could hurt, but he could not die.  Perhaps a cold and lonely existence for a man, but fearsome for a pirate.  And as long as he was forced to remain on this earth, Phil would use his life to safeguard the innocent, hunt the guilty, and protect and teach his crew.

Phil glanced away from the horizon when he heard soft footsteps approach.  “Shall I ready the crew, Captain?” Melinda May asked, her feet braced and her hand on the hilt of the long knife she wore on her belt.

Phil nodded.  “I want to board the _Clairvoyant_ as soon as we’re alongside,” he ordered.  “Tell the crew they can steal anything they wish, but Fury’s agents and what belongs to them are to be left alone.”

Melinda nodded briskly, and retreated.

The wind was with the _Triskelion_ , and she was a far superior ship, with a tough and experienced crew.  Phil grinned sharply, his blood humming.  “Tack to starboard, and ready the guns,” he yelled.  “Bring me that ship!”

~*~

After three days locked in a cage in the cramped hold of the _Clairvoyant_ , Clint Barton was angrier than a raging summer storm in port.  If some muscle-bound thug hadn’t stabbed him with a _knife_ \- instead of just beating him again like a civilized pirate - during his last escape attempt, Clint might have tried again.  He was just itching to punch Garrett in his smug face.  Groaning, Clint licked his cracked lips, and sucked in a mouthful of dank, rotting air.  The chains around his hands and feet clinked as he shifted on the rough wood floor.  “Don’t speak,” Natasha Romanoff told him, cutting off his words.  Natasha’s cool fingers pushed Clint’s lank, sweaty hair off his forehead.  “You’re running a fever, and I’ve got nothing else to bandage you with if you do something foolish.”

Clint wanted to protest.  He knew how much Natasha hated cages, which was why he’d fought so hard to free them in the first place.  The trouble was, Natasha wasn’t wrong.  He was weak and injured, and he couldn’t afford to be stupid any more.  Not if he wanted to live through this.  But before Clint could come up with another argument, the _Clairvoyant_ shuddered hard beneath them, timbers creaking.  “Did you feel that?” Clint rasped.

“Yes,” Natasha replied, her softer tones fading as she came more alert.  “We turned hard to port and we’re picking up speed.”  She flashed him a fierce grin that only highlighted her own split lip and darkening bruises.  “Someone’s chasing us.”

“Fury sent someone?” Clint asked, relief rushing through him.  He didn’t want to be at HYDRA’s mercy any more than Natasha.

“We have valuable information,” Natasha reminded him softly.

Clint reached out to curl his fingers around hers.  “You know as well as I do that Fury would never let you be captured without a fight, information or not.”

Natasha glanced away, but she did squeeze Clint’s hand.  “We should help whoever it is,” she said briskly.  “Besides, the idea of making Garrett’s day as miserable as possible warms the cockles of my heart.”

The clanking of chains reminded Clint of the manacles at his wrists and ankles, but Natasha drew one of her lockpicks from somewhere Clint didn’t want to think about, and made short work of them.  With a grin, Clint pushed himself up, ignoring the way his arms shook.  Agony flared across his battered body at the movement, spearing up from the knife wound in his thigh and stealing his breath.  With a curse, Clint shoved the pain to the back of his mind, and climbed carefully to his feet.   “Ladies first,” he replied, trying for a playful smirk, but probably failing.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha nevertheless uncurled herself gracefully, until she was standing next to Clint.  The cage Garrett had thrown them in was roughly made, and even with the extra locks Garrett had added after every escape attempt, it didn’t take Natasha more than a moment to figure out which weak point to exploit.  With a grinding screech, she forced the door open.  Thankfully, half the noise was covering by the sudden splintering crash of cannon balls slamming into the sides of the _Clairvoyant._   “Time to go!” Natasha shouted, knowing just as well as Clint that being trapped below decks was dangerous with cannon balls flying.

“Not without my bow,” Clint called back.

“Clint!” Natasha protested.  “There’s no time.  I’ll buy you a new one!”

Knowing Natasha didn’t understand, and not willing to tell her that it wasn’t just his bow that Clint was desperate to save, Clint dodged past her, but Natasha’s hand grabbed his stained shirt.  “ _Clint_ ,” she hissed.

“Please?” Clint replied, helplessly.

Muttering curses under her breath, Natasha gave him a sharp nod.  Giving up any illusion of stealth, they raced out of the hold and headed up towards the deck.  The wound in Clint’s thigh was a jolt of agony with every step, but his limp wasn’t too bad, and Clint was mostly just grateful the blade had missed the artery.  He could grit his teeth and bear the pain for a while longer.  Knowing Garrett would have locked up Clint’s bow and Natasha’s weapons - and therefore Clint’s pendant - in his cabin, he and Natasha headed up.  They just had to get across the open deck of the _Clairvoyant_ , which was sounding more and more difficult the closer they got.  Shouts followed them as crew noticed their escape, but Clint dodged as best he could while Natasha took out the pirates like the lethal shadow she was.  Suddenly, the _Clairvoyant_ lurched, sending Clint stumbling into a wall, as a cannon ball splintered the side of the ship where he’d been only second before and slammed into the men chasing him.

Shouldering open the door to the deck, Clint staggered out, Natasha at his heels.  The air was filled with smoke and the sound of pistol fire, and shouts of anger and pain.  For a heartbeat, Clint savoured the brush of cool air across his face, before diving into the chaos.  Grappling hooks were wrapped around the rail, and the looming shape of another ship was alongside the _Clairvoyant_.  Even with his sharp eyes, there was too much smoke for Clint to put a name to the second ship, but he did catch sight of the black flag and it’s familiar skull and crossbones design.

_Coulson_.

Grinning fiercely, Clint picked out several of Coulson’s crew battling fiercely across the deck.  Melinda May was as coldly ruthless as ever, using what looked like a single long knife and a lot of rage to fight her way towards Grant Ward, Garrett’s First Mate.  The former slave, Trip, brandished a cutlass, a terrifying snarl on his face, as he leapt onto the deck.  His dark skin gleamed through the sleeveless remains of his shirt and leather jerkin, and his eyes were locked on Garrett, who’d placed several large thugs between himself and the attacking pirates.  Jasper was watching their backs, wielding his cutlass with deadly accuracy as he kept the path back to the _Triskelion_ clear.  The orphan, Skye, was darting around in the chaos, slashing at thighs and unprotected sides with her knives, and Maria Hill was holding her own, fighting off three of Garrett’s goons with ease.  She, too, was a whirlwind of fury, and Clint suddenly realized there were a lot of people wishing vengeance on John Garrett.

Clint scanned the fight for Coulson, but he couldn’t see the Captain anywhere.  Then movement caught his eye and he glanced up just in time to see Coulson swing himself onto the deck.  Drawing his pistol, Coulson shot one of the attacking pirates, before he pivoted away from the sword aimed at his head and cut the second pirate down with his cutlass.  As always, Coulson looked strangely neat for a pirate.  Stubble covered his jaw, but his shirt was clean beneath his mismatched leather armour and coat, and Clint knew that Coulson’s hair was short under the dark bandana he wore.  His eyes were startlingly blue in his tanned face, his skin weathered and freckled slightly from a life at sea.  Coulson looked the same now as he had when they’d first met, when Coulson had swooped down to save a small, scared boy from a pirate raid.

A nearby crash drew Clint attention away from Coulson, and Clint turned to see a large thug brandishing an equally large axe running towards him.  Clint’s heart lurched as the pirate shouted, his hands instinctively reaching for knives that weren’t there.  “Clint!” Natasha yelled, giving Clint a firm shove between his shoulder blades.

Despite the cramped quarters of the ship, and the chaos of the fighting, Clint dodged the clumsy swing of the axe easily.  Pain flared up his thigh as he pivoted, slamming an elbow into the soft flesh of the pirate’s soft stomach.  Clint’s nimble fingers closed around the hilt of the knife in the man’s belt, and he yanked it free as the thug bent forwards with a grunt.  Behind him, he could hear the sounds of Natasha fighting off another pirate, but he spared her little thought, knowing she could take care of herself.  Instead, Clint flipped the knife in his grip and slashed the throat of the pirate in front of him before the man could lift his axe again. Jerking backwards as a bullet whipped close to his face, Clint ducked around the two pirates now fighting Trip, and tried to find a clear path towards Garrett’s cabin.

Darting forward, Clint dodged swords and pirates, determined to get to what he wanted.  As always, Natasha was a deadly presence at his back, keeping him safe as he did something most would consider stupid.  Possibly idiotic, Clint admitted with a grimace when he realized the door to Garrett’s cabin was locked.  “Move!” Natasha snapped.

Cursing, Clint spun, but no one was attacking them as he’d expected.  Instead, Natasha slammed her booted foot into the door, kicking it open with a loud splintering.  “Go!” she commanded, jerking her head towards the cabin.

With a sharp nod, Clint did what he was told.  His heart was pounding and the dizziness in his vision was starting to make his stomach churn, but Clint wasn’t about to give up easily.  Knowing he had little time, Clint scanned the room, noting from the empty rum bottles he was hardly the first thief to do so.  Spotting his bow on Garrett’s paper-strewn desk, Clint staggered over and smoothed his fingers reverently down the sleek curve of wood.  Of course Garrett was too arrogant to lock their weapon up in his safe.  Clint wasn’t surprised, but he was grateful.  It made everything so much easier to steal.  Slinging his quiver over his shoulder, Clint gathered up the knives piled underneath and strapped them on as quickly as he could, before his eyes found the small pendant he’d come looking for.

The blood-red ruby was etched with runes and hung on gold chain.  The jewel was pretty enough that Clint had to keep it out of sight of the pirates and thieves with whom he usually did business, but it was no ordinary necklace.  With luck, Clint would be able to use it to break the curse on the man who had come to mean so much to him.  Not even Natasha knew of the tiny cave with the hidden entrance where Clint had found it, concealed in a carved out hollow in the wall.  It had taken Clint the better part of two years to trace the history of the pendant, stolen from its original hiding place by pirates, and then passed between them ever since.  But Clint had, and now that it was _his_ , he wasn’t letting it go until he figured out how exactly the pendant was supposed to help Coulson.  Clint knew the myth that surrounded the Captain, and he had carefully remembered all the small things Coulson had told him over the years.  His fingers traced over the familiar inscription carved into the gold setting, the words echoing in his head without Clint having to read them.

_That which was taken was never stolen, and when given freely, will undo what was done_.

The clue to saving Coulson was in there somewhere, and Clint was going to find it.

With hurried movements, Clint carefully slid the pendant around his neck again, and tucked the jewel inside his shirt.  Then, bow in hand, Clint headed for the door.  “Tash!” he called, tossing his partner her double long knives when she appeared in the doorway, then the bundle of the rest of her weapons, wrapped in her leather jerkin, that she attached to her belt as tightly as she could.  Clint tossed her the packet of papers they’d stolen from a HYDRA operative and she tucked them inside her black shirt.  When Clint slipped back onto the deck, the fight was mostly over, but Clint nevertheless nocked an arrow into his bow.  The pirate sneaking up on Maria went down with a cry, her cutlass finishing the job a second later.  Two more arrows saved Skye as Clint carefully helped picked off the remains of Garrett’s crew.  Garrett himself was already dead, face down on the deck.  Ward followed not long after, another victim of Melinda’s long knife.  When the ship was theirs, Clint lowered his bow and met Coulson’s eyes with a grin.  “Hey, Phil,” he greeted.

Coulson shook his head, but there was a small, fond smile on his face.  “Why is it always _you_ I’m rescuing from trouble?” he replied.

Clint shrugged.  “I’m just lucky, I guess.”

“If _that’s_ what you want to call it,” Natasha muttered as she walked passed, securing her weapons.

Maria sheathed her cutlass.  “Do you have orders, Captain?” she asked.

Coulson’s smile lost its warmth.  “Take everything of value,” he replied.  “Then set the ship alight.  I think we’re done here, don’t you?”

Maria nodded, her eyes straying to where Garrett’s body lay.  “Yes, sir.”  Her smile chilled Clint’s blood.  “We are.”

“Good,” Coulson said.  Then his gaze flickered to Clint as Clint limped over, and he sighed.  “Come on,” he told Clint.  “Let’s get your latest wounds looked at before that limp becomes permanent.”

“Ha ha,” Clint told him flatly, even though his thigh was _really_ starting to hurt.  “You’re hilarious.”

~*~

The moon was high when Phil stepped out of his cabin on the _Triskelion_ to find Clint at the rail.  Even in the moonlight, Clint was handsome, and everything Phil longed to keep.  Clint’s normally sun-kissed skin was painted silver, and the gold of his hair was muted, but there was no hiding the sharpness in his multi-coloured eyes.  Or the breadth of Clint’s shoulders, and the strength in his chest and thighs, honed from archery and throwing himself up, down and off as many buildings as he could.  The first time Phil had seen Clint, he’d saved the small boy from the pirates raiding the merchant ship on which he was a stowaway.  The second had been only a few months later, as Clint has escaped from the family with whom Phil had left him.  Clint had been little more than a boy, yet he’d scampered across the rooftops and walls of Basseterre with a bright grin and breathtaking speed.  As Clint had grown, the stunts had become even more incredible, but that bright, challenging smile had stayed the same.  Somehow, Clint made Phil feel the weight of his years, but at the same time, he warmed cracks in Phil’s chest that had been cold for so long.

“Are you here to tell me to go below decks?” Clint asked quietly, as Phil settled beside him at the railing, coffee cup in hand.

“Do I usually attempt to give you orders?” Phil replied dryly.

Clint huffed.  “I’ve been trapped in one cramped cage after another for days,” he muttered.  “I just need some air.”

For a moment, Phil gazed out over the moonlit ocean and sipped his coffee.  He knew better than most how sometimes four walls could feel confining.  “You know I don’t care if you sleep on the deck,” he said, turning to glance at Clint.  “Just try not to fall asleep in the crow’s nest again and scare Jasper.”

Clint flashed him a grin.  “That was _once_ ,” he protested, laughter in his voice.  “And it was the first time you let me sail with you.  I wanted to find somewhere I could hide, so you’d let me stay.”

Phil’s answering smile was faintly wistful, and he sipped his coffee as he let the memories wash over him.  He would have loved to have let Clint stay, but Clint had deserved a better life than piracy, and Phil hadn’t wanted to take that from him.  Of course, Clint had instead thrown himself into the life of a rogue and a thief with open arms, intent on finding his adventures one way or another.  Adventures that included befriending the infamous spy, the Black Widow, and causing trouble to cursed pirates every time Clint snuck aboard the _Triskelion_.  Phil was beginning to think either Melinda or Skye was helping him.

“So how’s the crew, Captain?” Clint asked, and Phil let the memories of the young boy who’d tugged at something deep within him fade away.  The man Clint had become had the same effect, anyway.  “Got any stories to tell me?”

“Ah,” Phil said with a smile.  “I might have one or two.  Maria won’t confirm it, but I have a suspicion that Trip and Skye are both trying to woo the same fair lady.  You remember Jemma Simmons, don’t you?”

Phil had first met Miss Simmons during a few days that would be forever etched into his memory.  Clint and Natasha had stolen the plans for one of HYDRA’s new prototype weapons, and in the process, Clint had been poisoned.  Phil remembered the overwhelming fear squeezing his heart and the ice swimming in his veins as he’d pounded on Miss Simmons’ door. She had been the only one who could save Clint, and because she was brilliant, she had done just that to Phil’s immense relief.  Her half-brother Fitz had even decoded the weapons plans while Clint had been recovering.

“Lucky Jemma,” Clint said with a smirk.

Phil rolled his eyes.  “Jasper still seems determined to feed Melinda, although I don’t know if it is simply friendship or something more.  Last month, when we raided a rich merchant ship, he questioned the fancy French chef for an hour before he’d let us leave.”

Clint chuckled.  “He didn’t!”

“Oh, he did,” Phil replied.  “His cooking has gotten even better, however, so I offered to find himself a Spanish chef to interrogate too.”

His eyes bright, Clint bit his lip in an attempt not to wake the entire ship with his laughter.  Leaning closer, he dropped his head onto Phil’s shoulder as his own shook silently.  Phil smiled, revelling in the rare feeling of Clint’s solid warmth pressed against his side.  “And what about you?” Phil asked, gesturing towards the chain around Clint’s neck as the younger man raised his head again.  “Do you finally have a sweetheart of your own?”

As soon as Phil said the words, he wanted to take them back.  He’d noticed Clint’s fingers tracing the chain as Clint watched the horizon, but Phil wasn’t sure he was ready to hear tales of the dazzling beauty who’d caught Clint’s attention.  He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready.

Clint hummed in confusion.

“Your necklace,” Phil told him softly.  “You weren’t wearing it the last time we met, and it’s been a while…”

“Oh,” Clint said, his hand reaching up to play with the chain.  “It’s… ah.”  His eyes searched Phil’s, and Phil couldn’t look away.  Hesitantly, Clint licked his lips and swallowed.  “It’s something very important to me, because I’m hoping it will help…”

The sound of a boots hitting the deck had Phil’s head snapping up.  It was only then that he realized how close together he and Clint were standing, and he consciously took a step backwards.  Then he turned a raised eyebrow on Skye, who was watching them with wide eyes.  “Sorry, Captain!” she said, having clearly just jumped down from the rigging.  “I was just on my way to relieve Trip so he could get some sleep.”

Phil nodded at her, not entirely willing to turn back and meet Clint’s gaze.  “I should be getting back to my charts, anyway,” he said.

Even as he was saying the words, Phil knew he was taking the coward’s way out.  Skye’s presence had reminded Phil of how young and beautiful Clint was - how young and beautiful they all were.  Eventually, they would grow older, and would search for love and companionship, and maybe even children.  They wouldn’t mean to leave Phil behind, but they would all the same.  It was the life Phil was cursed to lead.  Until then, however, Phil would protect them, and keep them safe.  He just had to remember that doing more than that only led to pain and misery.

“Make sure you sleep, Clint,” he said softly, before nodding to Skye.

His heart twisted with every step back to his cabin, but it was better this way.

~*~

Clint watched Phil retreat, and resisted the urge to sigh in frustration.  Every time he found a chink in Coulson’s armour, Coulson would close up and pull away.  It was maddening and heartbreaking at the same time, because all Clint wanted to do was save Coulson, like Coulson had saved him all those years ago.  Clint may have been hopelessly and completely in love with Coulson, but that didn’t mean Coulson had to love him back.  Knowing Coulson was truly _free_ would be enough.  Of course, this would be a hell of a lot easier if Coulson wasn’t so damn stubborn.

“I’m sorry,” Skye muttered, shrugging helplessly.  “I really didn’t mean to interrupt.”  Clint gave her a smile, because it wasn’t her fault.  “You should go after him,” she added.

Clint blinked.  “I’m sure Coulson can read charts on his own,” he replied.

Skye rolled her eyes and blew out a sigh.  “I catch him sometimes, you know.  Looking sad.  He thinks we don’t notice, but we do.  Except, he’s never sad when you’re around.  He smiles more, too.”  She raised her eyebrows expectantly, but Clint’s feet remained stubbornly fixed to the deck.  “So aren’t you going?”  She waved her hands in the direction of Coulson’s cabin.

“You seem to care a lot about this,” Clint said quietly.

Shrugging, Skye glanced away.  “I just want to see him happy,” she said.

“Okay.”  Clint squared his shoulders.  “Thanks.”

Skye just shrugged again, and waved as Clint walked away.  Knocking, Clint stepped inside the cabin and shut the door behind him.  Coulson was going over the charts spread out on his desk, but he looked up at Clint’s entrance.  “Clint?  Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Yes.”  Clint let out a slow breath.  “We didn’t finish our conversation.”

The smile on Coulson’s face was definitely forced, and Clint could see Coulson’s white-knuckled grip on his pencil.  He was strangely silent as Clint walked over to the table, but those blue eyes watched Clint’s every movement.  Reaching up, Clint pulled the pendant out from underneath his shirt and slipped the chain over his head.  Then, very carefully, he set the ruby down right in front of Coulson.  “The necklace wasn’t given to me by anyone,” he said in a low voice.  “I found it in a cave, surrounded by treasure stolen by a dead pirate.”

Coulson’s shoulders were rigid, and even though he’d stretched out his hand, he couldn’t quite seem to touch the jewel.  “Clint…”

“You recognize it, don’t you?” Clint interrupted.

He was no witch, but Clint knew a little about what Phil had suffered.  Phil had once been a Captain in the British Navy, although that might have been a lifetime ago.  He’d been engaged to a woman named Lorelai, but when Phil had chosen to do his duty over marrying her, she’d cursed him cruelly.  From what little Phil had said, by the end of it, Lorelai had hated him for denying her the life she’d craved.  Her revenge had been cruel, because for all his faults, Phil had _never_ deserved to have been cursed.

Dropping his hand, Coulson glanced up with hard eyes.  “I do,” he replied.  “But you shouldn’t be messing with things you don’t understand.”

Clenching his jaw, Clint glared back.  He didn’t hide the hurt that flared from Coulson’s words, for once letting all his emotions show in his face.  “Don’t tell me what I understand,” he snapped.  He sucked in a shaky breath.  “I’ve remembered _everything_ you’ve told me about the curse since I was a boy, and I _know_ how much it hurts you.  Phil, I would face down dragons if there was a chance to free you from this.”

Phil stared at Clint with wide eyes.  He looked as close to speechless as Clint had ever seen him, something raw and vulnerable in his gaze.  Then he glanced down at the ruby again.  “So you found it,” he whispered.

“So I found it,” Clint echoed firmly.

Letting out a breath, Phil closed his eyes.  “ _Why_?” he asked, his voice rough.

Clint swallowed.  “Because I care about you,” he replied softly.  “Because sometimes when you watch Skye, or Natasha, or Trip, there’s something heartbreaking in your eyes that makes me want to fix it.”

Pushing away from the desk, Phil ran his hands over his face, but his gaze kept straying back to the pendant.  Clint tried to give him space, but the silence was making all the doubts in his head louder.  “Phil?” he said tentatively, clinging to the glimmer of hope that this wasn’t all about to go horribly wrong.

“I never knew about Lorelai’s magic until it was too late,” Phil said quietly, and Clint had to clench his fists to stop himself reaching out at the pain in Phil’s eyes.  “It turns out I didn’t actually know much about Lorelai at all, but I was young and stupid then.”  For a moment, Phil smiled sardonically.  “Her aunt found me after I’d lost everything.  I… I don’t know what she did, but the curse was easier to bear after she had.  Before she left, she gave me that pendant and said I would know what to do when the time came.”

Clint wanted to comfort Phil, to pull Phil into his arms and remind the other man that there were still those who care, but he held himself back.  He needed to hear what Phil had to say.  “But it didn’t work,” he said, knowing there was still more to the story.

“No, it didn’t work.”  Phil smiled sadly.  “Her name was Audrey, and she was beautiful and kind.  It was so easy to fall in love with her.”  He glanced up at Clint beseechingly.  “You need to know that I didn’t blame her then, and I don’t blame her now.  But when I gave her the pendant… I don’t know what happened, but she gave it back to me.  A year later, she married a British Commodore.”  Phil sighed.  “Loving her didn’t seem to matter to the curse.”

Clint’s heart lurched at the defeat in his tone.  This was a man who faced down pirates and HYDRA without flinching, and he’d completely given up on saving himself.  “Maybe it doesn’t matter how much you loved her,” Clint told him.  He swallowed heavily, because it was now or never.  “Maybe it doesn’t even matter that I love you.  But whatever it takes, Phil, I’m ready to do it.”

The shock in Phil’s eyes was palpable.  “You can’t mean that.”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t mean,” Clint replied, slightly more angrily than he’d intended.  With another sigh, Clint scrubbed a hand through his hair.  “You’re so frustrating sometimes.  Did you just miss the part where I said _I’m in love with you_?”

“No,” Phil said roughly, “but I so rarely get to keep what I want that I’m having trouble believing it.”

Clint blinked at him.  “You are the most irritating, stubborn…” he growled.  Marching over to Phil, he clenched a fist in Phil’s shirt, but Phil’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from yanking Phil forward.

Phil’s hand reached up to cup Clint’s cheek.  “There’s something else you need to know, Clint,” Phil said, and Clint braced himself.  “The small boy I first saw glaring defiantly up at Captain Duquesne tugged at my heart, but the man you grew into is the one who stole it.  I love you too, Clint, but if the price is too high, I won’t _ever_ blame you for not paying it.”

Clint glared.  “Shut up.”  Yanking Phil forwards, he pulled Phil into a biting, searing kiss.  Clint poured everything he was feeling into it -- his frustration, the years of longing, the fear that this might be all the time he and Phil ever had.  Clint’s heart was hammering against his ribs, and he could taste the anger in the passion that flared between them, hot and bright.  Phil’s hands tangled into his hair as the kiss deepened, and Clint arched towards him with a moan.  Palms sliding over Phil’s broad shoulders, Clint lost himself to the moment, trying to etch it into his memory forever, before his hands somehow found their way underneath Phil’s shirt, finally able to touch warm skin.

Finally, Phil broke the kiss with a low groan, the sound sending shivers down Clint’s spine.  They were both breathing hard, and Clint could feel Phil’s heart beating as frantically as his.  “Clint,” Phil gasped.

“No,” Clint growled.  “No more self-sacrificing shit.”

Phil chuckled, the sound rough but happier than Clint had ever heard it.  He stroked a thumb over Clint’s cheek.  “Actually, I was going to say I have a bed just over there,” he said, nodding his head to the side.

“Okay,” Clint said, diving in for another kiss.  “Good.  Yes.  Let’s do that.”

~*~

Phil stirred awake slowly, warm and content.  There was a strong arm wrapped around his waist, and Phil’s body ached pleasantly.  Smiling, he curled closer to Clint, unused to waking up without the urge to immediately throw back the blankets and attend to the many tasks usually vying for his attention.  Phil was hardly a saint - there were whores who smiled when he was in port - but this was different.  Shoving away the voice in the back of his mind that reminded him that the curse might not give him more than one night with Clint, Phil pressed his face into the hollow between Clint’s neck and shoulder, and away from the sunlight that had woken him.  The rough chuckle in his ear proved that Clint was awake, and he smiled again at the press of Clint’s lips to his temple, before Clint’s fingers carded through his hair.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so lazy,” Clint said softly.  “You’re usually up with the dawn, yelling orders and exasperating Jasper.”

Swallowing, Phil wondered if he should tell Clint how he’d learned to hate his cold and empty bed, but he was interrupted by several loud knocks on the cabin door.  “You have five seconds to tell me if this is a bad time,” Jasper called out.

Clint chuckled.

“Come in, Jasper,” Phil shouted back, stubbornly refusing to open his eyes.

The door creaked open, and there was a rattle of a tray being set down.  “You know,” Jasper said a beat later, “you could have at least put on pants.”

Yawning, Phil breathed in the welcome scent of coffee, and cracked open an eye.  Jasper was glaring at them, his hands on his hips.  When Phil remained silent, Jasper rolled his eyes.  “Fine, be that way,” he muttered.  “Also, Maria sends a message.  Since it’s now almost noon and you have yet to make an appearance, she didn’t think you’d mind a small course correction.”

Phil frowned.  “What kind of course correction?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Jasper grinned.  “It was Natasha’s idea,” he replied.  “You’ll just have to join the rest of us if you want an explanation.”

Phil rolled his eyes as Jasper disappeared, then huffed.  He should probably find his pants before the _Triskelion_ ended up who knew where, and before the coffee got cold.  “Do you have any idea what’s going on?” he asked Clint.

Clint shrugged, the movement incredibly distracting because it dislodged the sheet, which slipped down to pool around Clint’s waist.  “They’re your crew,” he said with a grin.

Humming, Phil leaned forward to press a kiss to Clint’s naked shoulder.  Then he climbed out of bed, because if he didn’t, he probably wasn’t going to at all.  Unabashedly, Clint propped himself up on one elbow and watched appreciatively, but Phil didn’t allow himself to be distracted by that either.  Walking over to his desk, Phil poured himself a cup of coffee and picked up the pendant to give back to Clint, only to freeze at Clint’s wide eyes.  Glancing down, Phil blinked.  In his hand, the ruby was _glowing_ , lit by a pulsing radiance in the center of the stone.

“I’m guessing it’s never done that before,” Clint said.

“No, it hasn’t,” Phil replied.

Unsure of what to make of what was happening, Phil passed Clint the pendant.  The glow only seemed to brighten when Clint touched it.  Sighing, Phil sipped his coffee before pulling on his shirt and boots.  He had a suspicion that whatever Maria was up to was connected to the jewel somehow, and Phil would rather learn about it now than later.  “I’m going to talk to Maria,” he told Clint softly, walking over to press a kiss to Clint’s lips, because he looked just like a fallen angel lying in Phil’s rumbled sheets.  “Are you going to stay here?”

“No, I’m coming,” Clint muttered against Phil’s lips.  Then he sniggered.

Rolling his eyes, Phil tossed Clint a shirt.  Watching Clint stretch, muscles rippling underneath golden skin, distracted Phil for a while, but they managed to leave the cabin with a minimum of fuss.  Skye and Natasha still smirked at them when they appeared, but Phil couldn’t bring himself to care.  “Jasper informs me we’ve changed course,” Phil told Maria as he walked up to the wheel.

“Yes, Captain,” Maria replied with a smirk.

“And are you going to tell me where we’re now going?” Phil asked.

“Antigua,” Natasha answered, appearing beside him.  “Because that’s where we’ll find the Lady Frigga.”  She rolled her eyes at Coulson’s surprise.  “I know Clint thinks he can keep secrets, but if he didn’t want me to know about the pendant, he shouldn’t fiddle with it when he broods.”

Phil let out a slow breath, his chest warm at the way Natasha was so obviously helping him.  She smiled, and stretched up to press a kiss to his cheek.  “I would have helped you both if I’d known what Clint was searching for,” she whispered.

“Thank you,” Phil replied, his throat thick.  “How long until we arrive?”

Maria grinned.  “A few hours, at most.”

Arching an eyebrow, Phil turned to her.  For the _Triskelion_ to be that close, Maria would have had to have changed course somewhere in the middle of the night.  Maria rolled her eyes in response.  “You were otherwise engaged,” she said.  “Don’t worry.  We would have told you when we got there.”

Phil shook his head, and laughed.

~*~

The sprawling house was huge, and seemed to loom bigger the closer they rowed.  Clint tried not to feel intimidated, but it was hard to ignore the grandeur of the house or the regal beauty of the two women waiting for them on the dock.  The younger of the pair was dark-haired and wore breeches and a shirt of dark red.  Even from a distance, Clint could see she was armed, and she stood protectively in front of her companion.  The other was Lady Frigga, Lorelai’s aunt, and the woman who had helped Phil all those years ago.  She was dressed in an elegant blue gown that didn’t seem to match any fashions Clint had ever seen, her golden hair spilling over one shoulder.

As soon as the boat pulled up at the dock, Phil leaped out, grinned as he was pulled into a hug by the dark-haired woman.  For a moment Clint watched with envy, wondering who she was to have gained such affection from Phil.  Then his breath caught in his lungs, because Phil was turning that easy smile on him again.  Holding out a hand, Phil tugged him onto the dock as Melinda and Natasha secured the boat behind them.  “Clint, allow me to introduce Sif.  She helped teach me how to take care of myself, and how to fight like a pirate instead of a naval officer,” Phil said, his fingers tangling with Clint’s.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Sif greeted.

“And this is the Lady Frigga,” Phil continued, turning to the other woman.

Nervously, Clint nodded his head, wondering if it wouldn’t be better if he bowed.  Frigga smiled warmly at him, before reaching out to take both his free hand, and Phil’s.  “Phillip,” she said.  “I am very glad to see you again.”  Her blue eyes were kind, but infinitely old, when she turned to study Clint.  “And I am also pleased to see you, Clint Barton.”

Clint swallowed.  “I would return the compliment, my lady,” he replied, “but I’m still not sure what I’m going to have to do, and how much it’s going to hurt.”

Phil’s grip on his hand tightened, but before he could protest, Frigga laughed.  The musical sound somehow eased the tension twisting Clint’s stomach.  “It will not hurt at all, young thief,” she said.  “I would extend my hospitality and refreshments first, but I fear you will be too impatient, so I will do as you wish first.”

Stepping backwards, Frigga raised her palms so they were pointing towards the sky.  The air shimmered around her, and Clint felt the pendant give a jolt of warmth against his chest.  Wordlessly, Clint reached inside his shirt, and pulled out the ruby, squinting a little against it’s bright glow.  “Clint Barton, do you stand before me ready to break the curse surrounding Phillip James Coulson?” Frigga intoned.

Clint squeezed Phil’s hand, need to know Phil was beside him and unable to gaze away from Frigga.  Stepping closer, Phil wrapped an arm around Clint and Clint gratefully melted back into the strong embrace.  “Yes,” he said.  “I do.”

“And do you understand, that once this is done, it cannot be undone?” Frigga continued.

Letting out a breath, Clint nodded.  He took strength from Phil behind him, and the bright, burning love buried deep in his chest.  “I do,” he replied.

Frigga reached out, placing one of Phil’s hands over the glowing jewel still clutching in Clint’s.  “ _That which was taken was never stolen, and when given freely, will undo what was done_.” Frigga whispered, the air seeming to echo with the words.  Suddenly she was standing right in front of Clint, her eyes swirling like a whirlpool of stars.  Putting a hand on his cheek, and the other on Phil’s, she smiled softly.  “Let no one, man or God, tear asunder what has been bound.”

A bright light enveloped them and Clint shut his eyes as the ruby burned hot in his hand.  Phil’s arm tightened around him, and Clint clung back, hoping that whatever was happening would be enough to free Phil from his curse.  What felt like an eternity later, Clint blinked open his eyes to find the light gone, and Frigga watching them with warm, human eyes.  “That’s it?” Clint croaked.

Frigga smiled again.  “Lorelai never took Phillip’s heart.  It was his to give, and he gave it to you, Clint.  Freely.  And when you gave yours back so selflessly in return, it was enough to break the curse,” she said.  “Not even magic can withstand a love like that.”

Turning to Phil, Clint opened his mouth to ask if he felt different, but before he could, he stopped.  Something tingled in the back of his mind, and for a moment, Clint puzzled at it, before a wave of warm, solid _home_ washed over him.  Clint’s eyes widened as the sensations rushed over him and Frigga’s words suddenly made sense.  When Clint closed his eyes, he saw the glittering silver bonds that spiralled out, connecting him and Phil.  Without having to ask, Clint knew the curse had been broken, and that Phil would be bound to him for the rest of their lives.  “Oh,” he breathed.

“Yeah,” Phil said, his eyes bright with joy and unshed tears.  “Oh.”

Clint’s breath caught in his lungs.  “I love you,” he said fervently.

Phil laughed, his hands moving to cup Clint’s face.  “And I love you too, Clint,” he replied.  “So very much.” And then he sealed it with a kiss.

~*~

They ended up staying as guests at Frigga’s house for just over a week.  Phil almost felt guilty about how little time he’d spent with his hosts, but Frigga had insisted that he and Clint take all the time they needed to get used to the new bond between them.  Phil wasn’t sure how he would ever repay Frigga for all that she had done for him.  Eventually, however, even the paradise of Frigga’s hospitality couldn’t stop the itch underneath Phil’s skin, and he’d grinned when he noticed Clint was feeling the same.  The freedom of the sea had always called to Phil, and now… now that would be his to share with Clint, the deck of the _Triskelion_ solid and sure beneath their feet.  The breeze was cool on Phil’s skin, Clint’s solid presence a warm weight at his side and the horizon stretched out in front of him, full of adventure.

“So, where to, Captain?” Maria asked from the wheel.

“There have been reports of a new HYDRA base on the islands near Nassau,” Natasha said, appearing on Phil’s other side with a smirk.  “We could take a look?  After we visit Fury, of course.”

Smiling, Phil turned to Clint with an arched eyebrow.  “And what do you say, Clint?” he asked.

Grinning fiercely, Clint looked wild and free, his blond hair shining in the sun and his eyes bright with happiness.  “I always enjoy making HYDRA’s day worse,” he replied.

“Well, then,” Phil said, turning to Maria.  “Bring me that horizon!”

  
Fin.


End file.
